


Only you

by Harryspiritanimal



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Harry Styles - Freeform, Light Angst, Past, Repressed Emotions, Smut, Tattoos, airport, fight, now, one direction - Freeform, quarrel, steph brother, talking about emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5209583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harryspiritanimal/pseuds/Harryspiritanimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a crush on your steph brother isn't necessarily the easiest thing, but when your steph brother is adored by millions of screaming girls, it might be a little harder to stop liking him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only you

**Author's Note:**

> plot: requested by anon: Harry is you step brother and and one day y'all are alone and things happen then he goes off to tour and after a while he comes back and you meet him at the airport and your parents find out.

Releasing a sigh I closed my laptop and shoved it way, even after all these years it continued being weird seeing people freak about my step brother, Harry. When he auditioned for the X factor, everything changed so suddenly, you could say it all changed in the blink of an eye.

We went from spending every second of the day together, to calling and Skyping every day to a phone call once every other week to how things are now, barely speaking. I don’t know what happened to him or what changed in his mindset, but I miss him terribly.

He changed so much because of the spotlight that continuously lights him up, he changed from my geeky step brother whom used to be my best friend and who knew more about me than any other person in the world, to this tall and mysterious famous person who probably didn't even know what I looked like anymore.

He hated getting called famous, he used to get mad at me for calling him that, but that word is one of the only words that I can use to describe him these day. Because that's what he is, famous. I don't know what kind of person he is anymore, he has changed and grown up so much, he might as well be stranger to me. 

Leafing through my scrapbook I smiled absently at the picture there, a 16-year old Harry with wild curls and a cheeky smile with a 14-year old me. People always thought we were dating, until we told them our parents were dating, married now. But things changed, he found new friends to hang with, new people to share his feelings with, new people to be seen with.

I remember when he had come back from his first tour and he had been talking for days on days about how he didn’t like that everyone one in the band was able to grow facial hair but him or how everyone had chest hair but him. How he confined his feelings to me about being able to perform and make people happy, to being nervous about doing interviews and how the same stereotyping questions annoyed him from time to time.

I threw the scrapbook on the ground and threw myself in my big, fluffy pillow. I hated myself for not taking initiative and calling him more often, but I also blamed him.

He was the one who promised to never let our friendship go away, he was the one who had hugged me tight before leaving for his first tour, whispering how he was going to call me every day. He had been the one texting me that he wasn’t going to make our planned Skype sessions or phone calls, but hours later I would see pictures all over twitter and Tumblr of him going out to clubs with his new friends. He had been the one not picking up or not texting back. He had been the one who unfollowed me on all social media websites.

He had been the one who broke one of our many promises to each other, when were younger we would always tell each other we would be there when we would get our first tattoos, that we would get them together. I remember the day I was scrolling through my twitter and saw the pics of him in a shirt, tattoo on his arm. I understood that he had gotten it without me but I had been upset that he hadn’t told me, tears were streaming down my face again.

The last time he picked up he was irritated and annoyed that I would call him too often, ‘y/n would you please stop calling me every single day’ he had told me, he had sounded slightly tipsy. ‘To be honest, you look like a desperate girlfriend.’ I had hung up on him then, nearly 4 months ago and I hadn’t called back, just like him.

Mum hated it, she felt bad for me but also blamed the both of us for not calling each other anymore, for not trying, for giving up. But what I hated to most was the thing that I’m most scared to admit, the fame might have made Harry a different person, but he had become such a good person too. He had become such a good person without me. Always kind and nice to his fans and everyone around him, always honest and sincere. Since he had left I had developed a crush on him, like millions of other girls, and that’s what I hate the most.

Which sane person has a crush on their step brother? Harry’s fame had changed me too though, in the beginning I used to be so naive, trusting everyone, well turns out literally all of my friends used me to get close to Harry. Which lead to me having trust issues and me having no friends.

Mum, supporting Harry through everything he does would show at random moments, for example when there were new pictures of Harry, ‘why doesn’t he cut his hair?’ she said at the breakfast table.

‘I happen to like his hair like this you know?’ I had answered way too loud and too fast.

She smirked, ‘I don’t mean chop it all off, just an inch or so.’

I shrugged, ‘he seems comfortable and happy with it, I don’t care if he decides to shave half his head and leave the rest, he likes it and he’s happy with it, so others shouldn’t keep telling him to cut it.’

Dad stroked my arm, ‘when did you become so smart honey?’, his voice had a joking undertone to which I just rolled my eyes.

‘Oh, Anne love don’t forget to pack some lunch for when we’re on the road.’ Dad smiled while getting up, kissing her on her head.

‘Where are you going?’ I frowned, I didn’t know they were going somewhere.

Mum dropped her knife, her eyes wide: ‘Oh my god, we forget to tell her! How could we've possibly forgot to tell her?’ she rambled, her voice a little panicked.

‘Y/n we’re going to visit Anne’s mother for a few days, well for a week.’ I never went with them when they visited her, for starters, she’s not my grandmother and she doesn’t even know who I am, she barely remembers my dad.

‘Are you going to be alright on your own for a week sweetheart?’ Mum asked, grabbing my hand in the process. ‘Mum, you’ve done this before remember, I’ll be fine on my own.’ She smiled and finished packing their lunch, leaving some money for me in case of emergencies and a few hours later I wove them off.

They had only been gone for 6 hours when the shrill sound of our landline filled the living room, which made me frown, literally nobody used the landline anymore, even my granddad used a cellphone.

I grabbed the phone and answered it, leaving out my name, I had seen something on the news about people calling landlines in order to find out if you were home to break in.

A very deep and sturdy voice answered me, the voice I had missed the most lately, the voice I had been listening to singing so many songs. ‘Mum? Are you there, why aren’t you picking up your phone? Is everything okay?’, my heart fluttered a bit and I bit my tongue ‘no it’s y/n’, I answered shorty.

‘Where’s mum?’ his voice sounded very tired and I could hear some buzzing of voices in the background.

‘She’s visiting grandma with dad, they left about 6 hours ago, won’t be back for another week why?’ I could make out some cursing and rumbling, he probably took the phone away from his face. ‘Harry are you alr-‘, he had hung up on me.

I slammed the phone back into the station and threw myself on the couch, I didn’t understand what I had done wrong, I had gone through all our phone calls, texts and Skype conversations but I couldn’t find anything that I had done wrong to make him hate me all of a sudden.

I may not know what it’s like to be famous, to have thousands of fans follow you around. I may not be as pretty as many, many of his girl friends, or as talented as his new found friends, but that couldn’t be a reason to dislike me all of a sudden.

I could feel tears well up in my eyes and tried to blink them away, I had just done my makeup and didn’t want to ruin it even though I wasn’t planning on going out, these YouTube tutorials were amazing.

I somehow ended up going through the scrapbook I had made a few years ago once again but looked just at me this time. I had changed a lot too, I realised. My frizzy long and thick hair was no longer, I had chopped it all off and it now stopped a few inches from my shoulder, just reaching my chin and a bangs hid my forehead and eyebrows from view, reaching my eyelashes. I was in need of another haircut soon.

I had lost some puberty fat and my skin had (finally) cleared up. Of course I couldn’t compare to Harry, he had mother nature and the puberty gods on his side.

Suddenly I could hear my phone ring from the other end of the room, I groaned as I lifted myself from the sofa and sauntered to the kitchen table to pick up, somewhere in my mind I was curious who was calling me.

Somewhere I hoped it would be Harry but my hope disappeared when I saw it was mum.

‘Already missing me mum?’ I joked, ‘Y/n get in the car and go to the airport’, I sighed, ‘why’ I whined, the airport isn’t that far from where we live but the traffic is dreadful, making the trip nearly twice as long.

‘Harry was coming home to surprise us but apparently the taxi service is having a strike today so please go pick him up.’

I felt my stomach turn, why didn’t he just call me? Why didn’t he just ask.

‘Why didn’t he just ask me when he called the house?’ I asked, the irritation clearly noticeable in my voice.

‘Honey, please don’t do this right now, just go pick him up and spend some time with him while we’re gone alright?’

My eyes widened, ‘what do you mean “while we’re gone?” Aren’t you coming back?’ I rattled, ‘Oh sweetheart I really want to see him but we planned this trip weeks ago and we can’t cancel the hotel now.’

I groaned, rubbing my forehead with my eyes closed leaning my hands against the kitchen counter.

  
Driving to the airport my heart was racing, I was nervous to be locked up in a car with him for over 40 minutes, I was curious what to expect, we hadn’t talked in such a long time. And I don’t call the “where is mum?” phone call as an actual phone call.

I didn’t had to text him to ask him where he was, I just followed the paparazzi and boy where there many of them.

I honked to let him know I was there and a few seconds later two firm and broad looking men pushed the flashing cameras out of the way and there he was. Carrying a massive bag on his shoulder, hair nearly twice as long and curlier than mine, sunglasses propped on his nose, tall and skinny with which looked like sprayed on jeans and his famous Chelsea boots.

His arms were bigger, his tattoos on full display, rings and bracelets decorated his wrists and fingers.

He looked annoyed, he yanked the door open and threw his bag in the back while slamming the door shut rather hard. He reached for his seat belt while saying: ‘drive’, his voice was flat and hard, it made me flinch but I obeyed and drove off without thought.

  
I wish I hadn’t put on a jacket, it made me feel like I was suffocating, like I didn’t have enough room, it made me feel antsy and suddenly the small car felt way too small for the both of us.

For a few minutes nobody said anything, even with the music on it was uncomfortable to say the least.

‘So,’ I started, trying to get him to talk, ‘how have you been?’ I glanced sideways to look at him but his face was turned left, looking out of the window, sunglasses still on even though it was yet another clouded day in England.

‘Good’ I was tapping my fingers against the steering wheel and bi my lip to stop myself from yelling at him. Good, that’s all that I get after I didn’t hear from him for months? Just a good?

‘I’m good too by the way, thanks for asking.’ I say, my voice edgy and filled with rage.

He didn't say anything to that, just continued staring out of the window. Eventually he fished his phone out of his very tight skinny jeans and starts doing whatever the hell he does on that thing.

He didn’t speak for the rest of the trip and when we arrived home he was outside before I could even turn the car off waiting outside of the door, tapping his foot, arms crossed. I didn’t look at his face because I couldn’t see his eyes, I hated when people wore sunglasses when they weren't needed, you never knew when they’re looking at you or not.

Once I opened the door he rushed inside and headed straight for the stairs, slamming the door to his bedroom shut.

I threw my jacket across the room and started kicking the sofa while whisper yelling to myself. I was of breath before I’d even properly started letting my anger out when I had to grab the couch for support, heaving and eventually the tears start falling too, dripping down my face, leaving a wet trail on my cheeks.

The heaving didn’t stop and my body started shaking as an ugly and loud sob erupts from my throat. My feet slid over ground, my back connected with the wall and slid down, with a loud thump my bum connected with the floor. My hand covering my mouth to stop the noises from coming out, my heart beating rapidly in my chest.

I heard the door of Harry’s room open, his door had always made a noticeable creaking noise opening it, panicked I tried to collect myself from the floor and ran to the nearest bathroom, locking the door.

Pressing my back against the door I wiped my cheeks dry with a towel and took a deep breath, closing my eyes for second. I stepped away from the door and checked myself out in the mirror, made sure there were no traces of mascara anywhere but my lashes and headed back for the door.

My hand rested on the knob, I couldn’t bring myself to open it just yet, wanting to make sure he was in his room again but I couldn’t hear anything over the pounding rhythm of my pounding heart which was now throbbing in my ears.

I closed my eyes, steadied myself and turned the knob, rushing outside the door I ran into something hard and I felt myself falling but before I could even react two steady hands grabbed my arms firmly and hoisted me up.

He was still wearing his sunglasses, ‘thanks,’ I murmured looking down again and ducking out of the way to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge I was planning on starting dinner even though I wasn’t hungry, I figured Harry would be. I was taking a frying pan out of the cupboard when I heard him entering the kitchen, his shoes made a sharp tapping noise against the wooden floor.

‘I’m making macaroni with cheese and bacon, I know you like mums food better but it’s the best I can do.’ I murmured, cursing at myself when I heard the hint of emotion from earlier in my voice.

When he didn’t reply I turned around, his face was turned in my direction but because of those stupid sunglasses I couldn’t tell if he was actually looking at me.

I rolled my eyes and took my sweater of throwing it over one of the kitchen chairs.

‘You-‘ he stuttered I turned around and swallowed a rude comment, I didn’t want to scare him away now.

I raised my eyebrows at him, ‘you got a tattoo?’

I shrugged, ‘multiple actually,’ I said while turned back to the stove. ‘I got one on my right wrist, left and right under arm, the back of my left upper arm, the back of my neck, my stomach and my back.’

I was surprised he was talking to me, I tried to make my voice sound as casual as possible. He didn’t feel like Harry anymore, he was so different he felt like a stranger.

‘You also cut your hair’ he said, there was a certain sadness in his voice I couldn’t place. ‘You didn’t tell me.’ His voice sounded like he blamed me, like he was shocked I didn’t tell him, like it was my fault, there was a sudden hardness in it.

‘Well Harry it’s hard to tell someone something when they don’t want to talk to you now, isn’t it.’ I snapped at him, turning around while crossing my arms.

‘You stopped calling me’ he bit back at me, my jaw almost hit the floor and my eyes widened.

‘Excuse me?’ I raised my voice, ‘I fucking called you alright, you were the one who told me I was getting pathetic or don’t you fucking remember that!’, his hand grabbed his hair and he bit his lip. ‘I was the one who called you every night, I was the one who got up at 3 a.m. because of different time zones, I was the one who skipped school whenever you texted me you weren’t doing alright and you needed somebody to talk to, I was there for you Harry but you didn’t want me, you pushed me away!’

‘Well I’m sorry y/n that I was busy! You don’t know what it’s like, doing shows every night, recording albums in hotel rooms instead of in studios, you have no fucking idea how hard it has been for me!’

I wanted to slap him, I wanted to kick his shins I wanted him to understand but he didn’t.

‘Were you too busy to call me for 3 fucking years, or to tell me you were in the same city as I was 2 years ago so we could’ve met up, you could text all your mates from high school but not me?' I raged at him, 'I was supposed to be your best friend! You could’ve told me Harry! I was there to listen to you! But you didn’t want me! Nobody fucking wants me!’

‘I found other friends y/n!’ that felt like a slap to the face, my rage disappeared.

I felt like I was dropped in a bath filled with ice and I couldn't resurface, like hundreds of sharp knives just sliced right through me. Like everyone had been shouting at me but now the world had stopped turning and I was greeted with an eerie silence.

Tears were welling up in my eyes so I turned around, I didn’t want him to see that he still affected me this much.

I took a deep shaky breath, ‘well that’s nice Harry, I’m glad you were able to finally find some better friends than me.’

Somewhere deep inside of me I hoped he would’ve interrupted me, to tell me that I was wrong, but he didn’t, he didn’t say a word. Which hurt way more.

I could see tears dripping down onto the oven, I turned it off and turned around.

Not looking at him I passed him, ‘I’m not hungry, you can make your own damn food, maybe you can ask your friends.’

He sighed, but didn’t say anything, ‘and take your sunglasses off we’re inside the fucking house!’ I yelled before running up the stairs and closing the door to my room.

I sank down on the carpet next to my bed immediately and started sobbing, closing my eyes, clutching my knees against my chest. I knew it but it hurt like hell to realise that you’re nobody’s best friend, I leaned my head against my arms and tried to calm my breathing.

After what seemed like an eternity there was a silent knock on my door, I barely even noticed it. I made a sound for him to come in, I didn’t lift my head up from my arms, I didn’t want him to see me like this, I wanted him to think I was fine.

He sat down next to me, his arm against mine which made my skin tingle. He didn’t say anything, just sat there, he used to do that when I would get upset. I didn’t like talking about my feelings, so he would just sit next to me as a sign that he was there for me.

‘What happened to Hannah and Emily?’ He murmured, ‘they only used me to get your phone number, just like everyone else.’ I said against my arm, I lost everyone.

‘I’m sorry y/n,’ he whispered, his voice filled with unspoken words.

‘Yeah well, you didn’t know they left so.’ I said while lifting my head and whipping my tears away, he had taken his sunglasses off.

‘Not just that though,’ he started, his hand gently stroking my back, sending shivers through my body.

‘I’m sorry for not calling you, I’m sorry for not texting back, I’m sorry for not being there for you, I’m sorry for being so rude to you back then, I’m just .. I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done and I know that sorry isn’t enough but I’ll be a better friend all right? I promise.’ He smiled, I teared up again shaking my head.

His hand landed on my head and he pushed some hairs out of my face, he smirked ‘your hair is shorter than mine.’ I smiled too, a sad smile.

‘Come on,’ he said while pulling me next to him on bed, he grasped my hand and looked at the ceiling, one hand behind his head.

‘Harry, we can never be friends like we were before.’ I whispered, ‘too much has happened, I-‘ I had to stop to breathe, ‘I’m not the same person anymore and neither are you.’

I said turning my head, he was eyeing me. Looking at my body up and down, ‘yeah I can see that’ he whispered back.

  
He lifted my arm probing his finger at the tattoos on my arm, I smiled. He started telling me stories of what it was like to be on tour, to visit so many places, to meet new people and so much more.

So I told him what happened to me, how I lost my friends, travelled a little through Europe about boyfriends and growing up basically. It was like getting to know a new person, like meeting a stranger.

‘I’m sorry I broke our promise’ he said while I was tracing his tattoos, I didn’t look up, just kept my gaze focused on his toned arms.

‘I knew how much it meant to you to get our first tattoos together and I’m sorry wasn’t there.’ I nodded against his shoulder and looked up at him, still gently tracing his tattoos, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against one of my pillows.

‘You know, mum was so angry when-‘, ‘she not your mum’ Harry said quickly, I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

Like I didn’t know that, the fact that she wasn’t my real mum was the only fact that kept me from being completely disgusted by myself for having a crush on my step brother.

‘Well, your mum was super pissed when she found out I had gotten tattoos without telling her.’ I smiled sadly at the memory, ‘than I got angry because she hadn’t made a big deal out of it when had gotten a few.’

He smiled, eyes still closed, my fingers lingering on the anatomic heart he had on his arm.

‘Y/n, why didn’t it work out with your boyfriend?’ he murmured, I shrugged ‘it just didn’t work out with them, I don’t know why.’

Of course I knew why it hadn’t worked out, they hadn’t been like Harry.

They couldn’t make me laugh like him, make me feel better like him, they just weren’t him but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

‘Boyfriends, as in plural?’ he frowned. ‘Yeah, I had about 2 more after Mason, didn’t work out though.’

He pushed propped himself on one elbow, ‘you never told me that.’

I pushed him playfully, ‘well you never told me about Taylor or any others so shut up.’ He smiled apologetically and laid back down, putting my hand back on his tattoos where I resumed tracing the outlines gently.

His stomach rumbled and I felt guilty for not finishing dinner for him, I hoisted myself out of bed. Harry pouted and made some noises out of protest but followed me anyway.

He pushed me out of the way and ran downstairs first, I laughed, we had been doing that since we were younger.

And just like old times when I was almost downstairs I tripped and Harry caught me before I could hit the wooden floor. My body was flush against his when I felt it, he was hard, my heart stop beating for a second.

He let me go instantly, his cheeks reddened while I turned around pretending I hadn’t noticed.

  
The silence in the kitchen was almost unbearable when I spoke, ‘Harry, can I ask you something?’ he nodded.

I took a deep breath, 'why didn’t call me anymore? Why were you acting so strange when I picked you up from the airport and why didn’t you want to take your sunglasses off?’

He scratched his head and laughed. ‘Well y/n, that’s more than one question isn’t it.’

He sighed rubbing his eyes with his palms murmuring something along the lines of ‘well here goes nothing’ before straightening his back and looking me in the eye for a second before looking down.

He seemed nervous, fidgeting at this rings, he took another deep breath and started rambling.

‘I know you are going to be disgusted by me but you deserve to know the truth and I know we’re supposed to be like brother and sister but ever since I left it has been so hard to see you like that y/n. I always had some sort of crush on you and I know that’s absolutely disgraceful but I have for a really long time but then I left and I saw your pictures on the internet, I saw how much you had changed without me being there how beautiful you had become and I just, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see your pictures or hear your voice without thinking about you in indecent ways and that upset me because you’re supposed to be like my sister.’

He was out of breath, almost heaving his head in his hands when he resumed talking.

‘I kept wearing the sunglasses because I didn’t want you to see me staring at you, you just look so different, good different and I like it, you, I like you a lot y/n and I’m so sorry to put you in this position.’ His voice sounded on the edge of crying when he started moving towards the kitchen door, I was nailed to the ground, my eyes wide my jaw on the floor.

I wanted to shout for him to not leave, that I felt the same way but I couldn’t, my brain didn’t seem to be working but my feet however were.

I grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him back, he stopped for a second his head facing the ground, he was shaking. I put my hands on his shoulders, turning him around gently, he still wasn’t making any eye contact. I put my hands on his face, forcing him to look at me, his eyes were filled with pain and shame it made my heart hurt.

I pulled him in for a tight hug, he didn’t respond at first, I was clinging to him, my face pressed into his neck, my arms around his shoulders while I was standing on my tippy toes. But he reacted eventually, pressed his face against mine, his arms snaking around my waist, pulling me closer, pulling flush against him again.

I took a shaky breath and closed my eyes, pulling him even closer before whispering in his neck: ‘Harry, I’ve felt the same way ever since you left.’

My voice was barely noticeable and very shaky but his grip tightened for a second, his fingers digging in my waist before he released himself from my grip and turned around not making eye contact.

He turned to the stove and turned it off, once again. Before walking back over to me, his eyes started on my feet before roaming up my body slowly stopping only a few inches in front of my staring at my lips before glancing at my eyes.

‘Are you sure?’ he mumbled, his hands coming up to my face, stroking my cheeks. His thumb stroked over my bottom lip.

I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer, his lips landing on mine and I instantly relaxed.

We didn’t move at first, just stood there for a few seconds, lips pressed against each other, breathing slowly, heavily. Before he started moving his lips against mine, slow and gentle, he made me whimper.

My hands tangled in his long hair, pulling him harder against me, a moan erupted from the back of his throat.

He grabbed my face harder, his hands went to my hair, tugging it. Somehow my bottom ended up resting on the kitchen counter, my legs tangled behind his back, pressing him closer to me.

His tongue against mine, stroking softly, warm and wet. His arousal pressed against my core, our breathing hot and rapid against each other, his face pressed to my neck, sucking gently but firmly, marking me.

  
He stepped back for a second, studying my face stopping at my slightly swollen lips before smiling devilishly and yanking me off the counter, throwing me over his shoulder.

His laugh was contagious and before I knew it we were in my room, laughing.

He had thrown me onto the bed and was hovering over me, pressing soft kisses against my neck and chest, still laughing I felt the air leave his nose and tickle me each time again.

He stepped away for a second, ‘close your eyes’ he whispered, I smiled and complied. ‘Don’t peek he said, I heard the door open and some rumbling before the door opened again. I heard some clicking noises and yelped with surprise when his lips were on mine again.

He chuckled against them and said: ‘open them’, I fluttered my eyes and saw that my room was being lit by candles, I smiled, I knew how much he liked them.

I pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, his tongue passing my lips immediately making me moan, butterflies were flying around in my stomach, my skin felt like electricity was running over it.

I lowered my head and started sucking on his neck, making him whimper. I was sitting on his lap now, his arousal very  obvious to me. I ground into him, he threw his head back and his eyes fluttered close, his hips moving under mine.

My fingers traced his chest lightly making him shiver, I opened the few remaining buttons that weren’t undone already and pushed it off his shoulders, he had been working out, a lot.

I kissed his chest, ‘you’ve been working out’ I murmured against his skin, he moaned something that sounded like a yes when his hands went to my shirt and pulled it off quickly and impatiently.

I was still sitting on his lap, my legs on each side of him. He looked at my breast and gently cupped them, ‘they’ve grown,’ I laughed, making them jiggle a bit.

‘Harry, I’m no longer 15 remember.’ He laughed tracing that tattoo a few inches above my navel, he leaned forward and kissed it making me gasp when he tongue darted out and traced the outlines.

‘I like it’ he murmured, ‘you taste good y/n’ he sighed against my stomach, his hair was tickling my breast a little.

He lifted me gently so he could reach for my jeans, pealing them off without difficulties, his jeans however were so skinny I could barely move them, he laughed and took them off himself, leaving us in our underwear.

We looked at each other for a while before basically attacking each other, limbs tangled, clinging to each other for dear life.

He laid me down on the duvet and kissed down my body, taking my bra off on the way, lingering by my breast for a couple of minutes, making me squirm under him just using his lips, sucking and kissing gently.

He pulled my panties down with his teeth, laughing when he couldn’t get further than a few inches and hurrying them off, I reached forward and yanked his boxers off and my eyes widened.

He was so thick an long, Harry blushed and laughed a bit, nervously ‘not what you were expecting?’ I let out a loud laugh, ‘I wasn’t expecting a gnome Harry.’

He laughed and his eyes darkened, he pulled me down, my back hitting the mattress, Harry hovering over me kissing me a lot harder and more urgent than before. I moaned loudly and grabbed his cock, he gasped but pushed himself into my hand.

His hand travelled down my body and reached my core, he had lost his patience on the way and went for it immediately, creating another throaty moan I threw my head back and squeezed him harder.

Harry groaned and buried his face into my neck, biting on the skin there making me gasp.

His fingers quickened and two entered me pumping at the same rhythm as I was pumping him. His other hand went to my breast, and eventually his mouth followed, sucking and licking making me see stars.

He grunted out my name against my neck at the same time I yelled out his.

He laid down next to me for a while, tracing my body with the lightest touch of his fingers. I could feel myself getting wet again, and I could tell he was getting hard too, our legs were tangled together my head on his chest.

I looked at him, ‘are you sure you want to do this y/n? I understand if you don’t want to, I mean, it’s not natural it’s-.’

I stopped him by pressing my lips against his, ‘Harry, we’re not actual siblings, we have a different set of parents. If our parents wouldn’t have met it wouldn’t be this “odd”.’ I whispered against his lips, he groaned and took my bottom lip between his teeth pulling it slightly, my breath hitched.

‘I euhm-‘ he stammered, a little nervous, ‘I don’t have anything, like protection.’ , ‘I don’t have anything either.’ I said, he looked down and back up ‘I’m, I’m clean though.’

He murmured, ‘I’m on birth control.’ I whispered, his eyes darkened and his pupils dilated. He closed his eyes and kissed me, his hands roaming down my body, spreading my legs a little, settled himself over me.

He stopped kissing me and places his elbows on each side of my face, staring at me intensely as he entered me tortuously and slowly making me ache, my back arched a little and my breathing stocked in my throat. It burned a little, but the barely there pain left and was replaced by pleasure after a few moments.

  
Once he was completely settled he stopped moving for a few seconds, searching my eyes for any discomfort, which he didn’t find.

Harry put on a very slow pace, moving almost all the way out of me before slowing pushing his way back in, making me squirm under him, arching my back, digging my feet in his back, urging him to go faster, to go harder.

‘Harry’ I moaned needy, he chuckled breathlessly and arched one of his eyebrows.

Leaning in, pressing his lips against my ear: ‘You want it harder?’ he barely whispered darkly. I shivered, and nodded furiously, pressing my fingers in his skin.

His eyes darkened visually, as he pulled out slowly before slamming his hips down, hard.

I yelped and he froze, his eyes wide. ‘y/n are you okay, was it too hard, I’m so sorry I-‘, ‘Harry don’t stop for fucks sake!’ I begged him, my voice filled with lust and need for him.

His face relaxed again as he started pounding into me, each thrust making me shiver, making me long for more, sending sparks to my stomach, losing my breath. I clutched myself onto him, digging my nails in his back, probably leaving marks.

His eyes rolled back into his head as his thrusts starting getting sloppier and harder, his grunts getting louder and my moans getting throatier.

  
‘Fuck y/n are you going to cum?’ Harry whimpered getting closer to my face, his long hair tickling my face and my neck.

I nodded and moaned, unable to answer, getting lost in the feeling which was him.

‘Fuck’ he muttered, his hand quickly tracing down my body to my heated centre where he started rubbing furiously.

I writhed under him and screamed out in pleasure, throwing my head from side to side, arching my back, I came hard and fast hearing Harry shout my name in the back ground, pressing his face in the creek of my neck, digging his fingers into my hips, his hips altered and eventually stopped.

He pulled out gently making me hiss at the loss of him.

We took a long, nice hot bath together with dozens of candles, bubbles, wine and eventually take-out food before falling asleep.

In those two days we spend every single second together, talking, watching TV-series, making out, cooking together and of course sex.

But those two days went by quicker than we could imagined, I dropped him off at the airport and cried all the way back home. From that moment on we called, Skyped and texted every day, mum and dad were happy that we were friends again and couldn’t wait to be reunited again.

5 months later

I was ticking my foot nervously on the floor, we were waiting in a private part of the airport to pick up Harry and to avoid the cameras.

We knew his plane had landed but it seemed to take forever for him to get to us, I was nervous about how we were going to keep everything a secret, nervous about our parents finding out but as soon as I saw the familiar tall and skinny Harry in his barely buttoned up shirt walk around the corner I forgot all about that.

He smiled brightly, his lips looked so pink and kissable, his hair a few inches longer, his eyes looked tired. He didn’t even look at mum and dad he went straight for me, scooped me up and twirled me around, I giggled like 5-year-old and pressed my face in his neck.

When he put me down he dropped his bag and pressed his lips against mine, I kissed him back eagerly before I realised we had an audience and not just any audience.

Harry froze too and pulled his face from mine, wide eyes and flustered, I groaned and pressed my head against his chest before turning around.

Mum looked confused and happy but dad looked disgusted. ‘What the fuck is this? You’re brother and sister? This is taboo, I forbid this from happening again!’

Anne gently pulled his arm, ‘darling, they’re not technically brother and sister and look how happy they are, how happy y/n has been these past few months.’

Dad’s expression didn’t change, in fact he didn’t talk at all until we got home, ‘no sharing rooms together understood? I don’t care what you do, as long as you lot are happy but don’t make me see, not yet.’

He huffed before heading to the kitchen, mum smiled sadly and followed him.

I turned to Harry and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder, he smiled and pressed one on my head. This was going to work, we would find a way to make it work.


End file.
